


When The Spy Falls

by Spymaster13



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 12th Doctor/ Agent O, Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Manipulation, Episode Fix-It: s12e01 Spyfall Part 1, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Manipulation, Missing Scene, Pre-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Slow Burn, Telepathy, That little glance to 13's lips on the plane, The Doctor and Agent O backstory, The Master's Outback Outfit looks really hot, Undercover, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spymaster13/pseuds/Spymaster13
Summary: 13 decides to visit her old friend Agent O and reflects on their meeting at MI6 as the world falls apart. When she was a man, years ago. But they text! Is it safe?Probably.Maybe.80%, at a push, 40%.As worries of Yaz and Ryan's safety protrude her mind, O offers comfort and a distraction.If only she knew that by distancing herself from her fam, she's put herself in even more danger and become the bait of the Master's mind games once again.
Relationships: The Doctor/Agent O, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

MI6: A YEAR BEFORE SPYFALL  
He was a desk job analyst. The lowest form of job placement MI6 had to offer, often looked down upon, always heckled, always mocked. The usual workplace taunts. The canteen was always deliberately empty by the time he got there after being shoved in the back of the queue, his good red biro pens stolen and found half broken in the rubbish bins, and once, a particularly stressful day of his important analytical files found in different 'self destruct' folders on his cubicle mates' computers. He knew why they did it of course. He wasn't one of them, and quite frankly, he was immensely glad he wasn't. The little gossip he picked up, the boring lives these humans led, no wonder they went for him first. Because they didn't have anything better to be doing, and saw him as beneath them. 

If not for his job title, absolutely for his belief in the Doctor. The mad alien who whizzed around time and space in his TARDIS, bigger on the inside. 'He saves planets', he always told people at work. 'He rescues everyone who needs it, he's the stars and the heart of the sun, the burning nebulas in deep space. He's seen them all. And he's amazing. I've seen him before, he dared to tell people if they asked how he knew so much. 'Long time ago. But he *will* come back for me.'

By that point, his co workers would laugh in his face and walk away, shaking their heads and go for their third round at the canteen. It was a well known joke at the office that O was always going to be a tier below them in respect. C never took him seriously, even though he very well knew that O was more intelligent than half the staff. That was where the start of the disrespect began, he reasoned. All from the big boss, who perhaps secretly saw him as a threat to *his* job title. After all, who was it who predicted the outcome of sending more soldiers into battle of the Sontaran base strike in 05? Who was it who informed UNIT that Zygons were in hiding on Earth, Zygons who were furious and weary of being oppressed, years before they made their presence known and threatened to go nuclear? 

The Doctor was the only one who ever listened to anything he had to say. Who saw his intellect for what it was: a force that could topple governments and nations if he used it the right way. Of course, he was playing a long game here. He knew the result he wanted, and he was willing to go to any length to get it. And- any time the stress of daily human life began to get a little too much to bear- any time his headache went beyond two Asprin and a shot of whiskey, he had quite a unique secret.  
Very close to his hearts. Because he wasn't really O at all. The *real* O, who would never see a day beyond the dusty old walls of the MI6 fortress, rested in his pocket. A matchbox- Barry Letts matches to be specific. He was quite fond of the brand. The hilt of his tissue compression eliminator rested against one of his inner pockets, and should he desire, his house was just down the block from the flat that O occupied. 

It wasn't an ordinary house, even if it appeared as one. The beauty of chameleon circuits, a brief smirk crossed his face. To any ordinary human passing in the street, his TARDIS would appear as another flat on the block. Messy interior, maybe, but just how he liked it. Ample amounts of the finest English tea stockpiled in the back of his cupboards should he feel the need to kick back and watch Countdown- maybe initiate one race to go nuclear on another. Last that happened, he had started the Silurian war against the Rutans, giving them twice the mania with the Sontaran war still raining down hell on their people. His kind of world. 

But not now. Now he was in full disguise, and he couldn't let slip for a single moment. It was infuriating, yes, but it kept him alive. Which, he had to force to admit to himself, he was more than lucky to be. He sat at his computer, the long hours slipping away as he entered another string of long code, effectively preventing an attack from an airforce in South Korea on Buckingham Palace. As per usual, he treated himself to another sip of tea and no one batted an eye. C strode into the room, his arms full of files and paperwork, which he plunked all on O's desk. O simply closed his eyes, gave a sigh and turned up to face C.

"I've barely finished this lot," he said, hating how miserable his own voice sounded. "I'm halfway through decoding the missile plans you gave me yesterday. These things do take time and precision."

"Meanwhile there are nations at war and people who's lives depend on your calculations," C replied sternly. "You might want to pick up the pace a little. In fact, I may even have an incentive. I'm sure you'll find it worth your while. We've got a visitor." 

O quirked an eyebrow, moving a strand of his brown hair out of his eyes. It wasn't often someone from the outside world passed the security screenings for the MI6 building. Press were an absolute turn away, the Royal Family only came on occasion; once the Queen had stood in the corner and not said a single word for little over an hour. He found them all incredibly dull. C made his way to the front of the room, his large frame taking up the space between two desks as he stood over them all.

"Excuse me, most esteemed colleagues...and O," he added after a short pause, short chuckles echoing from nearby cubicles. "A moment of your time, if you'd be so kind. It's not often that our favorite analyst's assumptions and fantastical stories come to any fruition. You may have seen the stray file on him before UNIT fell. Heard the occasional news story about a stranger saving the world from an alien invasion. Ladies and gents, he's the reason we're alive at all today. Please, help me welcome the Doctor. He's come to check on the recent threats from the Zarbi- the best expert in the field." 

O felt his hearts skip a beat. There he was- the Doctor entered the room at the end of C's speech, clearly annoyed that he had made one at all. The fellow MI6 agents gave rather scattered applause but O made to stand and introduce himself after only a pause of contemplation. He hadn't aged a day. O had to hold back a strangled sob escaping his throat- he wanted to scream so many things in this man's face right now. 

This impossible man. 'Why did you leave me on the ship to die!? I stabbed my past self for you. I sacrificed myself for you. *Me!* I stood with you. You never knew. You NEED to know.' God- he wanted to attack him, to wrap his hands around his throat and watch the veins pop. But why were his hearts thudding out of control? Why had his pulse jumped? But he had to keep quiet. Because the impeccable appearance of the Doctor, his snowy white hair sticking out very much like an owl, his magician's waistcoat paired with a slick, black suit, were not the dusty, bloody and worn down outfit that they would soon be on the Mondasian ship. 

"Doctor, you won't have met O," C said, motioning me over. "Finest computer analyst to walk through these doors." 

O was taken aback- but of course, this was C trying to put on a front to impress the Doctor. He recovered a moment later and stuck out an awkward hand for the Doctor to shake.

"O," the Doctor repeated, testing the name on his lips. "Code names, hm? Always loved a good mystery. Wonder if you're as interesting underneath as your persona." 

O restrained himself better than ever at hearing a voice clear their throat before a rather attractive young woman stepped next to the Doctor and handed him a packet of white index cards. Her brown hair gave a distinctive swish around her shoulders as she flashed a smile at everyone to assume an air of calm over his blunderings. Clara Oswald. Very early days then. Possibly before he even met the lady version. That was the problem with time travel, you never knew which version of someone's timeline would match up with your own.

"Oh, yes, yes, the cards," he muttered. "Quite right." 

The Doctor shuffled the cards very nervously in his hands as Clara handed him the deck. O couldn't help letting an amused smile cross his face as he leaned back against the desk and watched him fumble for a sense of humility.

"No one is going to get eaten/vaporized/exterminated/upgraded/possessed/mortally wounded. We are all going to get out of this potential crisis unharmed."

The MI6 workers took one look at each other before snickering into their tea and returning to their work. As much as O wanted to punch them all in the face, give them the same fate as the shrunken man in his pocket, he brushed off his suit and gave a soft jerk of his head.

"Don't mind 'em," he said with a slight Northern twang to his voice. "No use trying, they're all dry as dust. You're hardly the first to be heckled."

"I've found the best people often are," The Doctor replied with a hint of a smirk. "Office junior, are you?"

"Could say that," O mumbled, giving an almost scared glance back at his coworkers. "Lowy desk agent who gets all the complicated maths. Would kill for somethin' bigger, me."

"Nah, maths are a puzzle! A challenge! You get all the important work. I love a good maths." He strode over to O's desk, full of confidence. "What's this? Pythagorean theory on a numeric base code?" 

The same puzzled look O had come to know quite well crossed Clara's face as the Doctor examined the files on his desk, akin to a kid in a candy store. O winced slightly at the paperwork that he would have to organize later when the Doctor left and it was business as usual, but for now, the idea of anyone involved in any of his works as the Doctor was, as if they were the most important thing in the universe, well, it was a significant ego booster, to say the least. 

"I had a couple hours waiting for the canteen," he said, his voice almost ashamed, a low tone. "The Law of Gravity is a favorite of mine to play around with-when I've finished my morning's work." 

"O," the Doctor finally breathed as he placed the papers back. "You're a *genius*. C- do you realize who you're working with here? All these, he does these for *fun*." 

"Yes, we're very aware of our employees recreational activities," C sighed, bored and unimpressed. "He'd do better to take up golfing or archery if you ask me."

"I haven't seen work like this since Einstein," the Doctor rambled as he picked up a random equation, waving it around furiously so as to prove it, a steady blush growing on O's face as his posture became less and less confident. "Since Tesla, since- Newton. I could go on, but you'd never get my point. Why would you? The most you worry about is the sugars in your coffee at the end of the day. But this- I daresay I'm impressed."

"That's the nicest thing he's said all week," Clara said after a rather awkward pause. "Especially after he tried to take his alarm clock apart this mornin' to make a clockwork squirrel." 

"I- I'm flattered," O finally found his voice, with a quick glance at C. "Listen, would you mind if I gave 'em a tour of the place?" 

"By all means," C was forced to resign after a side eyebrow from the Doctor, just out of O's field of vision. "Only person you'll ever be happy with. Just be sure to bring him home- we need him. Desperately." 

"Good to hear him admit it?" the Doctor gave a slight chuckle as O closed the door, his cheeks turning redder by the second.

"I don't deserve such high praise from you," O said softly. "The others- they all think I'm mad for believin' in you. I've never stopped looking for stories. Hoping maybe- there was someone out there who'd understand."

"Time for them to start believing in you then, isn't it?" the Doctor replied very seriously. 

His eyes met O's for a single moment and his expression changed. Somehow he managed to convey hope, longing, despair and anger all in a single milisecond, before he managed to awkwardly cover it up with a cough, turning his head away. O tried the best he could to keep his face neutral, swallowing back another response.

"Trust me, fact you've even got a smile out of him is amazing," said Clara. "He's been sulky for days."

"Not sulky!" the Doctor whipped around, pointing a very angry finger in her direction. "Just Scottish. This tour, then?"

O gave a soft smile and lead the way after a grin from Clara, taking them first to the staff canteen, the main workplace area, showing the Doctor equations and secret formulas the scientists in the main hub had been trying to crack for years. With a single glance to the whiteboards and files, the Doctor not only worked out exactly what was missing from the formulas, but made it ten times better with a simple added equation. 

"Might have to worry bout my job soon," O gave a slight chuckle as the Doctor dashed around the chemicals lab. "Not applying for an analyst position any time soon are you?"

"Nah, what's the point when the boss can't see up his own arse?" the Doctor flashed O a mad grin over a pile of beakers. "You're meant for way more than this, you know. That idiot, C? You're worth ten of him. Don't even argue, coz its not often I say nice things." 

"It really isn't," Clara chimed in. "What goes on in here then? Mad scientists and lightning with laughter?" 

"We are working on that effect," O smirked, his confidence starting to grow the more the Doctor's admiration for his work and effort increased. "I don't have much access to the other levels. Hack the security cameras if I'm bored. C changes the password every morning, it's fun to annoy him." 

"A genius surrounded by low intelligence humans, it's like you just wrote my life story," the Doctor said as he leaned next to O. "I've got my TARDIS- how do *you* cope? Same building every single day. Horrible canteen food. Dullness, dryness." 

"Just...soldier on and put on my best polite cat face," he demonstrated, widening his innocent brown eyes and raising his eyebrows, his lips pursed in a tight smile.

"Excuse me?" the Doctor gave a choked laugh. "What was that?" 

"Come on," Clara smiled, reaching for her phone, fingers flying across her keyboard. "It's a classic! Best meme there is- you gotta excuse him, he's old." 

The Doctor rolled his eyes as Clara handed him her phone, scrolling through all the images of the white cat with large eyeballs, a polite smile etched onto its face. To his credit, O didn't laugh. He'd been in this position far too many times at the mercy of his coworkers, and usually got the short end of the stick. The Doctor simply shook his head.

"Humans," he sighed. "So many things I'll never understand." 

Just as O was about to crack another joke, the door to the lab opened to reveal C with another load of paperwork. The confidence, the banter, the wonder of O seemed to slide away with a snap of his fingers. His short- too short time with the Doctor had been like a blissful daydream. And he still never got the chance to tell him it was him- him, god damn it, he survived. He was alive. 

Because the Doctor would never understand. Not this Doctor, anyway. He still had a long while to go. 

"Terribly sorry to cut this short, we've just had a call in from Russia," said C, O sighing as he resigned to his fate of ever more paperwork. "They want you on the field."

"Wha- me?" O stammered, looking back at the Doctor and Clara as if there had been a mistake, only to find them grinning like idiots. "On the field, me? As in shooting guns and gettin' actual work experience, me?"

"That is what 'on the field' means," C sighed, shaking his head. "Do try not to die, won't you? We'd be lost without our best analyst." 

O was flustered as he turned back to the Doctor and Clara, but shook his head and pulled out his phone on their way out, taking the Doctor aside. As he looked into his eyes- there were so many things he could say. So many regrets, passing memories, so much pain and love from a single glance. They both tried to hide it, and both failed miserably. 

"Listen," said O, his hands shaking. "S' alright if you don't want it, completely understand. Take my number. It can't hurt to have a fellow genius backing you up on Earth, can it?" 

"I never text," the Doctor said nervously, always an excuse, his eyes wide as O took his phone but not moving to stop him. "Don't look in my browser history!" 

"What am I gonna find?" O chuckled, entering his number and hitting 'save contact.' "'How to seduce an MI6 analyst?" 

The Doctor froze in shock at his words, a smirk slowly forming on his lips as his hand closed over his phone. O could hardly believe the jumbled words that slipped from him next.

"Is it working?" he said. "Thought I was doing alright." 

"Buy me dinner first," O replied smoothly. "Then we'll talk." 

He gave a wink before taking his leave, smoothing down the front of his suit. Today was a fine day indeed. Not only did he have a speed dial straight to the Doctor's TARDIS should he get caught up in spotty field work- he got a promotion. An on site position these business types would kill for. It was perhaps a good thing he didn't hear the Doctors remark to Clara as he rounded the corner to find his TARDIS.

"Think we should tell him that I hacked the Russian security systems and started another war?" the Doctor asked.

"Nah, you want to take away how happy he was?" Clara teased. "Best office romance MI6's ever seen. No doubt." 

"I was NOT flirting!" 

"You weren't *bad* at it." 

O brushed off the pocket of his suit that held the matchbox as he packed up his files finally he could put his plan into motion. A very long game, formed ever since he looked into the Matrix and learned the truth of his people. Of the Doctor. Of him. Revenge at long last. Trust was the first piece, the first wheel churning into motion. Soon, he'd be making deals with the Kassarvan and hitting up Barton for his empire of Vor. Soon, he'd be making friends with dangerous Germans, soon he'd be someone *she* could go to. Someone *she* could trust. And then, only then. Truly. All of this would be worth it. The Master smirked as he added another sugar to his tea and checked his phone at the ping of a text. He slid open the lock screen to find a meme waiting for him. 

Polite Cat, with the caption 'This is U.' A rushed text box read 'Clara showed me this app, I think I did it right.' 

'Well done,' he sent back. 'Now delete your browser history.' 

He gave a soft chuckle, kicking his feet up against a chair in his TARDIS. 

"Darling," he called over to his console. "Do me a favor would you? Call up Charles Babbage. He's got a very special silver lady, you see. I must add her to my collection." 

Yes, it was a very good day for the Master indeed. 


	2. Chapter 2: The Outback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13 feels lost, abandoned and without hope when the Kassarvan take Yaz. She just wants comfort from someone- anyone. Her good friend O is more than happy to oblige.   
> Shame he has ulterior motives.

The Doctor paced O's hut for the upteenth time that night since Yaz had returned from the terrifying dimension beyond the void. O listened intently to her terrified ramblings; that she thought she was going to die, that she had no idea where she was or what the sparks of light did to her body when they converged almost like she were the center of a computer chip, splitting her into thousands of tiny atoms. And now she was here- here in the Outback instead of San Fransisco with Ryan. How? How was any of it possible and how was she still alive? O hastily made her a fresh cup of tea from the finest herbs in his collection- transported straight from Buckingham Palace as a gift from the Queen. He theorized with her, sensing that what the junior officer really needed was someone to calm her down- to make sense of the chaos. He caught her more than once looking into his eyes with something almost akin to lust, making a mental note of this for later. It was nearing the early hours of the morning when Yaz finally seemed to calm down enough to suggest a lie in. 

Graham was the first to doze off on the settee that night, Ryan following not more than 5 minutes after making a bet with Yaz to see who could stay up the latest. The Doctor insisted that humans needed sleep far more than she did, and after comforting whispers and soft reassurances from her, Yaz drifted off as much as she could. O felt a smile twitch at his lips as the Doctor wrapped a ragged purple blanket over her. Soon, only O was up amidst Graham's snores to watch the Doctor's anxiety play out in front of him. 

"You know she's not asleep," O cut in, causing her to jump and whirl around in alarm to face him. "Poor girl's just been sent to another dimension, it won't be an easy night."

"When did *you* get here? Thought you left ages ago. And where'd you get all those files on my past lives? Been snooping, have you?" 

The Doctor crossed the room in a single stride as though the thought had just come into her head, gathering a rather extensive file folder that he had spent ages tracking down and putting together. He made a small noise of protest as she yanked open the door to her TARDIS and disposed of it, leaving only the rubbish or half completed bits he'd managed to find. He sighed and rested his head in his hands, making a show of the work having taken half his career. Which, if he was honest with himself, it had. A hobby for when he was heckled by his coworkers, a distraction from the dullness of every day human life. Which, yes, he had chosen as a long term plan. But sometimes the humans got the better of him, sometimes he needed a fairytale. That was why he chose the Doctor's. His breath hitched in his throat as she turned his head to face her with a soft touch of her finger.

"O," she sighed. "You want to know who I am? All the facts and figures so you can analyze everything? That's what your best at, isn't it? No mystery left unsolved. Do you know- I still remember the very first day at MI6 when I met you. I've never seen a human smarter. More compassionate- more brilliant. You want me to be this hero from beyond the stars that'll take everything away, but I can't. Whatever I am, it's not that. But you- with your big sad eyes, with your persistence and your human life...that's more of a fairytale than I could ever live."

O swallowed his missed breath down, the Doctor never removing her slender fingers from his chin. He wished she would- then he'd be able to breathe and form coherent thoughts. But she dazzled him- her story, her words. She was a mystery that even he would never be able to solve. He knew that from the moment he started searching through the files about her, and secretly, he'd known her longer than anyone. 

"You were amazin' with Yaz just now," the Doctor smiled gently. "Never been one for emotions, me. Find I only mess everythin' up. I've had no luck deciphering any readings from those creatures. I have no idea what happened to her- for the first time, I'm clueless. I've never seen these things before- what do they want? Why are they here? And why now? What's so important that they've put the world on red alert? Why take Yaz of all people? Sorry- I can go on a bit. Not used to havin' someone this quiet to share things with." 

"You seem alright to me," said O with a soft smirk, the Doctor's eyes catching his in the dimming light of his hut, sure she knew something was wrong, sure that he would break his impressive act at the second she showed signs of doubt. "All good questions, but requiring a significant amount of research before we know anything. Trust me- the more we stay out of their way, the better. The Outback is the best place for hiding." 

"You must get lonely," she said suddenly, turning to him. "I know how you felt about the others at MI6- they didn't deserve you. Genius begs an audience of understanding. But this? It can't have been this horrible." 

No signs of distrust. She needed a distraction- and for the first time since she'd entered his hut, she was still, focused, silent. O decided to take a chance- leaving it entirely up to her. It always was in the end. He related to her far more than he did anyone he'd met in his short existence- far shorter than hers. She was a god compared to him, a god with infinite knowledge. Infinite adventure, infinite possibility. Right now, she needed someone to calm her down. To give her peace, just for a moment. 

"Doctor," he said quietly. "May I kiss you?" 

The Doctor was taken aback by the sudden comment, her position crumbling; an awkward leg up on the steps of his hut, the other crouched behind her as she clasped his hands in hers. She shifted to her knees and brushed a golden hair out of her eyes.

"Oh!" 

The silence was too much for O to bear, he wished in that instant that he had never asked, that he could take back the foolish question from ever slipping his lips. He ran a fumbling hand nervously across his rugged beard, shaking his brown locks until they covered his eyes. When he dared to look up at her however, he didn't see rejection. He saw pity, kindness, a soft, gentle touch from her hand on his cheek. It stopped him from getting up to hide on the porch deck all night. It stopped almost any coherent thought his mind could put together. 

"O," the Doctor smiled. "It would be a pleasure." 

The Doctor was the first to bring his cheek closer, her hand splayed over his skin as she captured his lips. His clumsy human persona let out a soft squeak of surprise at the sudden movement, his eyes darting to Yaz and Ryan nervously in hopes that they wouldn't wake. He grew more confident as she deepened the kiss, her soft, lavender smelling hair starting to fall around his face in blonde, tumbling locks. His hands moved slowly up her spine after a gentle tap at her hips, snaking across her back as he trailed his soft skin against her figure. She was dazzling, beautiful. O laced his hand in hers, their fingers intwining on his cheek, his other hand tracing soft patterns on the back of her neck. His fingertips danced above her spine, mixing with her bothersome coat. 

She was compassionate enough to let him take control of the kiss, never stepping over an invisible line between them in more ways than one. His tongue boldly grazed her bottom lip, which fell open to his touch as if on muscle memory alone. Her eyes grew wide, a hint of a blush appearing on her pale cheeks at her own movements, a soft chuckle escaping O. He moved his rough tongue around in her mouth, savoring her taste, their lips crashing together in a shared passion. Her hands found strands of his hair, gripping them gently as he traced the walls of her mouth, a soft groan escaping her lips when they parted for breath. 

"Doctor," O said, tracing the inside of her palm, his voice flowing around her in the warm, evening breeze. "I'd assume you'd prefer outside- unless you want your friends knowing about us." 

"Us?" She questioned, turning her gorgeous green eyes to lock onto his, sending a million thoughts and feelings into his own with a single glance and a soft, trembling breath. "Yes. Us. I want- O. I want you. You don't understand- there's never been anyone like you. Never, in all my travels. And trust me- I've been everywhere. It's like-" 

"Have you ever believed in destiny, Doctor?" O tilted his head as he brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I think it's incredibly foolish to pretend it doesn't exist on some level," she replied. 

"I spent all these years texting you, wondering what you must be like," he said quietly. "Those long conversations we had into the night- the video calls, the jokes only we'd understand. It feels like we were destined to meet. You need someone." 

"Someone like you?" the Doctor's breath hitched as O placed his thumb on her lip gently, studying her expression.

"No," he replied seriously. "Someone like *you*." 

She had to have known it was him. Him, the Master. But she seemed utterly entranced by the show he was putting on, so much that it didn't feel like an act at all. It was natural, the words falling from his lips like honey as he helped her up from her kneeling position. 

"Floorin' outside won't be very comfortable," she said, allowing him a soft chuckle. 

"Unless you'd rather in here with this lot, we've fallen short of options," he replied with a soft kiss behind her ear. 

She gave a gentle laugh, allowing him to pull her up from the floor. He laced a hand around her neck and rid her of her ever present jacket, shedding the layer to the floor. It landed with a soft thud and Yaz gave a twitch in her sleep. The Doctor followed him out the doors, utterly entranced, her green eyes never leaving his. As soon as O laid a soft sheepskin blanket across the deck, throwing a few pillows on the wooden flooring so as to allow for injury, the Doctor crashed her lips into his. He was taken aback- as O, as the Master. She fumbled her delicate white fingertips under his shirt, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders and throwing the material across the deck. 

"Doctor..." O said breathlessly, kissing her just as passionately, his hands moving to her flowing golden locks as her lips found his neck. "Love, tell me if this is too fast. I don't want to hurt you." 

"O," she chuckled, her lips mapping out his skin as she found sensitive patches that hadn't been touched in ages. "All those times over the phone- you know what I imagined?" 

"Hmm?" His eyes started to flutter closed as his hands traced her hair, her breath extremely close to his ear as she whispered.

"Just- let go of everythin'," she muttered, tracing under his shirt, her hands hitting his muscled chest, running soft, teasing circles over patches of skin. "All the teasin', all the heckling. I know ya' suffered. Jus' be yourself with me. I trust you- you're a good man, O. You've no idea how hard it was- callin' ya late on MI6 work nights and not flyin' all the way jus' to see you." 

"What do you want from me, Doctor?" he said quietly, seriously. 

"You," she breathed, her accent strong, her breaths mingling with his. "Everythin'. Just us- make this worth it."

His lips parted with need, her kisses tracing across his neck in a flurry of desire, a soft groan escaping his lips, only to be silenced with her own. His eyes never left hers as she traced around his stomach, yanking off his top, her shaking fingers tracing the button down trousers he favored. O grew more confident with his movements when it became clear that she wasn't stopping- she wanted this. Wanted him, and oh gods- he wanted her. He pulled her back onto the soft blanket, the wood flooring hitting his back, causing him to give a painful hiss. She traced his stomach, her hands mapping his skin, moving over his muscled chest as her kisses trailed down his throat to his chest. 

O grew bolder, reaching behind her to unbuckle the suspender strap that held her tightly waisted trousers to her rainbow striped shirt. He fumbled with the clasps in front so he could gently work her top over her head, revealing her stark blue sports bra. His eyes travelled to her lips, a telltale glance that she would remember later, regret later. But now- now she was fully under his lust. Wrapped around his finger, her mind mush beneath his wide, innocent gaze. It was his fumbling hands that found their way under her trousers first, guiding them down to the deck as he switched their position- propping her against a few pillows. He trailed a line of kisses directly across her collarbone, coming to quite a sensitive vein on her neck. He smirked at her shivering jump before biting down harshly.

"A-aah!" she cried out, only to be shushed by him, his gentle finger placed over her lips.

"Others still in there," he whispered. "Don't want 'em hearin'." 

She nodded, her golden hair falling around her face as she lay back on the pillows, almost obedient to his touch. Perhaps the body remembered what the mind forgot. His lips trailed down her stomach to the hem of her pants- also a royal blue color, and he shook his head with a soft smile. She was spoiling him- and she knew it. He braced his arms on her back so as not to add insult to injury- the chilly wind of the Outback blowing through the trees and ruffling their hair together in a messed jumble of brown and blonde. As she was distracted by his wide eyes, his hand crept below her waist and he gently curled a finger into her sex, her back arching at his touch with a jumble of soft whispers and small cries tumbling from her lips. 

"O," she breathed, her lips parting in his name. "Gods- never done this as a woman. Oh gods!" 

At her sudden words, he stopped moving his hand any further, his eyes softened. Surely she must have- he can't be her first. Not with what he's about to do, the guilt this will hang in the back of his mind, the hold he'll have over her. More power to him, an evil, dark voice whispered in the back of his mind. No one will ever know. No one *can* know- she'd never admit her own weakness. Far too stubborn. She said it. She's *yours.* 

"Do you want me to stop, love?" he posed the question, an offer, a chance for her to refuse.

"No," she gasped after an agonizing pause, her hips bucking against his hand in need. "*Fuck*ing hell- I need you. All those times- make it real." 

And with a second's pause of consideration, he smirked and shucked her undies down, letting the fabric tangle around her legs as he added a second finger. She was tight around him, her walls clenching and expanding as soft moans escaped her lips. The warm wind whipped her golden hair around her face, his hand gently prepping her as he whispered soft reassurances and traced her stomach with his nails. Her body soon caught on with his movements, thrusting against him, a wave of desire and arousal unlike any she'd felt before flooding through her. The Doctor grasped his trousers with trembling hands and yanked them to the wood floor, O climbing on top of her and gently kissing behind her earlobe, nipping it ever so slightly. His hard member pressed against her chest, her mouth parted as her body shuddered around his fingers, noises filling the warm night air. 

"O," she sighed. "I've never met anyone- anyone like ya. Ya' understand me. I- I think I've fallen in love." 

"You know what, Doctor," his voice flows across her, smooth as honey, relaxing her mind and any cares or worries she might have had vanishing in a single instant. "I were thinking exactly the same thing." 

O looked into her dazzling green eyes, the night air warm across his chest, her need, her want, her arousal flooding through him as she pressed herself against his muscles. She needs him, gods, she *needs* him. He glanced back to the hut as a last precaution, perhaps to be sure that the drug in the tea was strong enough that her 'fam' would be out for hours. A gentle smirk of unknown intent crossed his lips as he teased her, the tip of his length rubbing against her thigh. It drove her over the edge, her back arching off the floor. And finally, he broke through her walls, sliding into her as slow and gentle as he could bring himself to be. A long groan slipped from his lips as a trickle of blood ran down his thigh, he could feel her precious lining crumble beneath his touch. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, both adjusting, both running their hands across the others skin, fully entranced, her lips parted in a soft 'O.' He started to move, thrusting her against the soft blanket. 

He could feel her shoulder blades hitting the wooden floorboards, her head dropping back as her body adjusted. He smirked as he remembered all the times at the academy they'd shagged within an inch of their lives, the warm breeze of the red, grassy foothills almost akin to the relaxing wind now splaying his hair across her chest, setting every nerve on fire. He placed his hands on her temple, feeling her arousal coursing through him. He moved to where she needed him, moved until she gave a loud groan- there, oh, *there.* His mouth latched around a breast and she whined, *whined* into the warm night air. He sped up his thrusting, the creaking sound of the floorboards overpowering any soft moans that left her throat, her hands threaded through his hair. 

She started to clench around him, her whimpers and garbled sounds reaching an all time high as he trailed his kisses from one breast to another, she's never felt this before, its alien to her. Strange, new, deeply, deeply arousing. Her hands scraped his muscled chest, her body bucking against his in lust, she needs him there. Deeper, she could feel the blood on their skin starting to harden in the warm night. Her mind was so blissfully blank, for once not racing out of control, focused on him. Just him- this human she'd fallen in love with. This human she trusted enough to take the most vulnerable part her body had possessed, this human who knew her better than anyone. Almost anyone. It was perfect, he was perfect. As if he were made just for her. The thought drove her mind over the edge, a burning desire deep in her core as her hips met his again and again- there, -no, there! 

"A-aHH!" 

O kissed her neck in a flurry of his lips, his fumbling hands trailing down her back as her body convulsed around him. He soothed her with gentle, soft whispers as she shuddered through the aftershocks, her blonde hair a mess around her face, sweat dripping from his brow. O thrusted against her, her hips still rolling into his as her body learned, adjusted, refocused. He could see the red fields of grass around him as his vision turned a dazzling white- felt her soft skin beneath him, heard the shouts of the citadel as everyone frantically searched for where Theta and Koschei had run off to this time. He growled as he bit into the sensitive nerve on her neck, the warm air heating his muscled chest as he released into her. It was enough to send him dizzy for a good minute. When he came to, his head was resting on her shoulder, her hand brushing against his hair softly. 

It was a long time before either of them spoke, his lips trailing across her slim collarbone. 

"I on'ly hope that was a good enough distraction," he chuckled softly. "Since you didn't like any of m' tea." 

"I've got quite selective taste," she replied, a real laugh echoing through the night air, she kissed him a final time, her head coming to rest on his muscled chest. "O-"

"Shh, darlin," he said. "You don't need to say anythin'." 

"I do," she looked up at him. "O- I love you." 

Her eyelids fluttered closed as he held her against him, breathing in her lemony, lavender scent. Her skin was hot to the touch, mixing with the soft fur of the blanket across the wood floor, the soft breeze providing a gentle relief. They fell asleep in each others arms that night, his mind overridden with guilt for what he had just done. Because no matter how the Doctor saw him- he was always the Master. He wasn't anything like she thought.

He removed his mind control from her head with a gentle touch of his fingers, her body shuddering in his hold. For now, he would enjoy being O as long as he could. Because for now- the Doctor loved him. Now, the Doctor trusted him more than anything. And that was all he had ever wanted. 

The only witness to their soft promises and gentle praise was the ever present whisper of the Australian wind through their hair, pausing only to listen before sweeping it all away.   
......


	3. Chapter 3: Look for the Spymaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang hijack a plane with O, not knowing he's dwelling on the night he shared with the Doctor- right under all their noses. Oblivious as ever, the Doctor's shock to O goes a little beyond knowing that he's her childhood friend.

Chapter 3: The Spymaster

The Doctor was leading the chase onto the plane: and that was when it had slipped. 'Never been good at sprinting.' He hoped she wouldn't notice, she would be too caught up in getting her companions to safety. He wondered just how long he could upkeep this O's disguise. That was his weakness, always in times of high danger, his disguises seemed to falter. As if he cared more than he let on. The Doctor had noticed, of course she had. He pretended to be flattered that she had read his files, checked up on him as much as he had 'researched' her. He imagined the saved texts and memes on her phone, how they would never be able to have those conversations late into the night again. Not after this.

Because now that she knew, he had no choice. He'd already called Barton via a handy little switch on his tissue compression eliminator. The tiny O sat against his hearts in his breast pocket, sat there during the passionate night they'd shared not less than 24 hours ago. What a difference a day makes, he mused, when you happen to be a genius hell bent on revenge. When you have a pre coordinated plan already waiting in the shadows, ready any moment to be sprung into action. All it takes is saying the right phrase, the right trigger warning. The right moment. And knowing how to get away. 

Oh he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she figured it out. She was always slower than he was, and she knew it, secretly. Any second now. The Doctor made sure all her pets were gathered on the plane, a tight, confined space. No escapes, no dramatic last minute exits. Just them, exactly how he liked it. 

"What exactly are we gonna do?" Yaz asked, panting for breath as she settled in between a row of seats next to Graham, a little too out of reach of the diameter from the cockpit. 

"Sit tight," said the Doctor with a false smile to instill calm. "See where he's goin!'"

Here it was. She turned to him, shaking her blonde hair out of her face, his expression never faltering, looking down, bashful in appearance. 

"Never been good at sprinting?" she asked.

"I was the last one in every race at school," he made a hasty excuse, but even now he knew it was too late.

"No, no, I read your file," she gave a small grin. "You're a champion sprinter!" 

Hmm. Had she been suspicious perhaps even before they started running to the plane? Was this her way of getting him to crack, her way of studying his movements? He cursed himself for deliberately being the last in the line of running, nearly missing the plane taking off from reaching into his back pocket to call Barton. 

"Hmm," he smirked, his tongue tracing his teeth inside his mouth as he held back an evil grin, his eyes darkening, his voice dropping an octave. "Got me. Well done." 

"What's going on, Doc?" Graham. Of course it was Graham, here for the running commentary.

"I don't know," her tone was breathy, innocent, the gears in her head turning, churning, regret already starting to spread across her face. 

"Then you'd best take a look out the window." 

The effect was instant; all of them rushing to the small curved ovals in the walls of the plane. The Doctor reaching the window first, the one closest in proximity to the cabin door. Good, he left his seat and started making his way to the back of the plane. He was tapping a beat of four on his leg, counting down the seconds, counting down until the moment, until the explosion. 

"How is your house out there?" asked Graham.

Oh, good TARDIS. Always a step along side him with the fast returns protocol. The Doctor uttered a tiny 'no.' Whatever hope she'd had in her eyes quickly shattering on the spot. He turned, making his way up the isle to stand just beside the cockpit door, his advanced hearing catching the little, tiny ticks as they grew louder and louder. Closer and closer.

"Oh, come on, Doctor, catch up, you can do it," he smirked, it was one of their games. Always one of their games. His body always in motion, as though he were a diver about to take the running jump into a swimming pool.

"Ohhh," her sound of dismay. Beautiful.

"That- *that*'s my name, and that is why I chose it," he let the smirk fully spread over his lips, his grin maniacal, pure evil. Letting loose a surge of darkness that had been held back for far, far too long. "So satisfying. Doctor, I-I did say, look for the Spymaster. Or should I say, Spy...master." 

Here it was. Her shoulders haunched, her hands gripping the edges of the plane seating until her knuckles turned white. Her strands of hair hung in front of her beautiful hazel eyes. The Doctor's lip twitched as she realized what she'd done. Not just putting her friends in danger of their all too short lives, no, no. *That* was the icing on the cake. She'd never been female before, not since the early days of the academy. And now, *now* he owned her. She could never take back what she gave him that night, and he held it over her gleefully, like a prize to be won. It was time to drop the stutter for good. 

"Hi," he gave a cheeky wave, very similar in mannerisms to the Saxon version of himself that she'd hated *so* much. A murderous grin.

"You can't be," she growled, she knew.

"Oh, I *can* be," he said, forcefully, his voice dropping an octave, turning to her 'fam' with a delighted grin across his face. "And I very much am.'" 

"So what's going on then, he's not really O?" Ryan pressed.

"I'm her best enemy," he chuckled.

He saw the hatred in her eyes. A Missy phrase, a Missy tilt of his head. Perfect. A heartbroken look crossed her face, her eyes dull, any hope she had left for her best friend squashed in a single second. Any chance she could have had at redemption gone. Taken by this man, this man stood in front of her with the most evil grin slapped upon his face that she'd ever seen. And he glanced down at her lips, a soft chuckle escaping his own. The only one to touch her new, awkward, fumbling body in this extremely intimate way. The one who took the most precious thing this new body possessed. He owned her. No matter what he learned in the Gallifreyan archives, no matter how powerful she might be, right now, always, he held this over her. He'd beaten her. He turned back to her pets, as she offered no explanation.

"Call me 'Master'," he said with a gleeful smile. 

"Call you *what?"* Graham sputtered.

"Master," Ryan repeated, puzzled.

Yaz seemed to be the only one to notice that the Doctor looked sick. Utterly, utterly sick. Her blond hair hung in front of her face as her shoulders haunched, her body caving in on itself, trying to become as small as she possibly could. She couldn't look Graham, Ryan or Yaz in the eyes, nor be bothered with an explanation. Her bubbly personality and intensely annoying optimism vanished in a split second. Her hand covered her mouth, her lips dry as she turned to face him. 

"Me and her, we go way, way, way back," he snickered, a hand on his fashionable jacket, feeling the hilt of O's little box against his fingers. 

"I met O," the Doctor said, desperate. 

"I know," he grinned.

Shut up. Shut up, shut up, he could see her begging silently. But his grin never faltered, never wavered. Oh, he would hold this over her for the rest of their lives. Don't say a word, don't say anything, he could hear the thoughts racing. Begging him silently. Begging him not to expose her weakness to her companions. 

"*Years* ago," she said quietly. 

No more texts. No more memes, no more late night calls, no more poker battles, intelligence competitions, sending her selfies of his fresh shaven beard because she *loved* it. Because she'd never met anyone like him. Because 'She trusted him more than anyone.' Because 'she fell in love.' Her hand never left her mouth, her lips try as she stared at him, backing away towards the cockpit. He was sending her the phrases that had fallen from her own lips just the night before, delighted as he watched her grow ever more unhinged, ever more sick and disgusted. At herself. At what she'd become, at what she'd given him. 

"I KNOW!" his voice bounced around the cabin, a sick, twisted, evil laugh.

"But there was an O at MI6 he was talking about," Ryan was catching on. Smarter than he appeared perhaps.

"Yeah," he closed his hand over his right breast pocket. "A man very close to my heart. Well, in my pocket actually. Do you wanna see him? Always good to keep a backup of ones work. Tissue compression, classic."

He grinned as her eyes grew wide. In that moment, she was the only thing that mattered. He pulled the matchbox out of his pocket that had been lying in wait as he drew up calculations and glanced into her eyes with a shared smile, as he sprung the trap for the Kassarvan, as he flirted with Yaz and comforted her when the Doctor was so caught up with everything else, when he had slipped into her body the night before, when she had lifted the coat off his shoulders. O sat there the entire time, shrunken in a Barry Letts Matchbox. Her breath was shaky as she slowly approached him, her body guarded by her shoulders as if she thought he might attack her. Trying to appear bigger and more threatening than she was.

"Ambushed him on his way to work on his first day," he grinned, finally, revenge was so sweet. "Shrunk him, took his identity, set myself up in MI6. Surprisingly good staff canteen." 

All the mockery she had helped him through, all the reassurances, the heartfelt messages and soft touches to his arm vanished in a single second. Leaving nothing but fury in her eyes as he tossed the real O aside into the plane seat. He clapped his hands gleefully. 

"I have had...a lot of fun!!" 

In a few moments, the bomb would take out half the cabin and send the plane hurtling to the ground at a speed no one could escape from. In a few moments, his best enemy would be dead, caused by his own hand. In a few moments, her panicked, half broken voice would shout that she couldn't do it, that she couldn't disarm the explosive, that she couldn't beat him. His own furious voice would chide her for not thinking that he would make it sonic proof. And he would taunt her, taunt her with a last, heartfelt secret in the seconds before her death. And he would escape to live another day, because he always did. 

But now. Now her broken, dim hazel eyes, her shaking body curling in on itself, constantly backing away from her companions as though she herself were a bomb, as though she would be the cause of their very own destruction. *Now* he savored this. 

Because now, he'd made her confront the truth of who she was. Of how weak she was. Now, he made her confront her own morality. 

He held it over her, a prize to be won.

He played the long game, designed every piece of the puzzle. 

This was his victory.

.....


End file.
